Nana Bantu threw the six cowries she always used for divination on the ground. They bounced, rattled and turned over and over as Zaza watched with a pounding heart. They settled at length and she gazed fixedly at them for a long time, then she looked up at Zaza .
'Life, she began, life does not care for the sorrows of the bereaved.
Sometimes, it gives us no time to mourn for what is lost. Shame and misery sometimes follow glory as surely as night follows day'.

Zaza left the hut of Nana Bantu, the oracle of the caves, as confused as ever. He had been told before hand that she delighted in cryptic sayings as a spider delighted in spinning webs so he was not too surprised. He was not going to let the cryptic sayings of an old wench bother him, he thought as he slung his bow over his shoulders. Today was his day, his first hunt and he had a name to make. His first kill, he decided, was going to be so spectacular that even the great Ikolo would turn in his grave with jealousy.